The last couple of years have not really produced much for discerning adults in the area of good films to go and see at the cinema, however this year has given us a gem in ‘The King’s Speech’ which, for me personally, was a sheer joy. I am, in fact, going to see it for a second time very soon and I only do that if a film is particularly special.

There are many great moments in this film but one of the highlights is, of course, the musical score. I always notice the soundtrack when watching a film because the music can, for me, make or break the experience. Who could fail to be moved during the scene where the King delivers his speech to the nation on the outbreak of war? a defining moment in the reign of King George VI was the address he made to the British nation when war was declared against Germany and how inspired was the choice to choose the music of Beethoven to accompany this particular scene. The second movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No.7 – in the wonderful key of A minor (I am a violist, I love the minors…) – with it’s atmosphere of both intense foreboding (the struggle ahead) and the absolute determination to overcome all obstacles (victory at all costs). Just an incredible combination of sight and sound. And after the film ended, while the credits rolled hardly anyone moved from their seats while the closing music played – I have only ever seen that happen once and that was during the closing credits of ‘Amadeus’ when people sat transfixed by the beautiful piano concerto no.20 in D minor.

I hope as many people as possible turn out and see this film; in many ways the British people need to be reminded of what great leadership this country had at such a time and how important, especially at this time in history, it is to remember what can be achieved by the people in this nation when they believe in themselves and each other. Looking out the window at the rest of the world right now, I believe the time is coming once more for such a thing.

It is not often that I criticise anything Australian but I feel I have to on this occasion. I was one of the masses who enjoyed the original UK-version of Masterchef on TV – that is until the BBC decided to faff around with the format and in doing so ruined it. I never liked the Australian format of the show; it is more soap opera stuff than kitchen stuff.  It is too focused on the contestants who, in turn, become headlines each day in the newspapers – faux celebrities – when the show should be about the food rather than so much the people cooking it. To host George Calombaris - tone it down mate, tone it down.

Aussie Masterchef

And then we have Matt Preston – who the heck was Matt Preston before he strode onto this show like Ole King Cole…? this guy gets a bloody fanfare for an introduction – who IS he? too pompous, too serious – lighten up, it’s only food guys! the British format was relaxed, laid back and enjoyable in comparison. If you could tolerate unusually creepy Greg Wallace and John Torode shoving forkfuls of food into their mouths in glorious close-up each  time that is. I have seen enough of their molars for a lifetime. The format now is changed for the worst; and why does any TV contest involving more than one judge these days have to feature the X-Factor-style  ‘judges sitting in a row at a table in front of contestant waiting 30 seconds for dramatic effect before announcing decision’…? these people are cooking not juggling squirrels or singing a song. Drop the pomposity that features in the Australian version – we want to see food being cooked and people learning to cook it better, not hear boring sob stories from desperate relatives hoping for a dash of the spotlight when they can get it.

My opinion of Australian Masterchef has been zero since I watched Julie Goodwin in 2009 being awarded the winners trophy after she failed successive trials and on two occasion in the finals did not even manage to compete her courses. What a joke. How does a person be called a Masterchef when they burn, drop and fail to even cook something in the allotted time…? but it made good headlines for the show. Note to the BBC: we want our old Masterchef back, change is not always for the better.

The adorable little boy pictured at left would one day grow up to be a King of the British Empire, the father of our present Queen Elizabeth II. As Prince Albert of Wales he looks like most little boys of the era which was the early 20th century, dressed in a sailor suit for the photographer as was the trend at the time. We all think he led a charmed life – as would assume all Royals do – but sadly his childhood was not the happy childhood it could have been. He was habitually abused as a toddler by a spiteful nanny and terrorised throughout his teens by an authoritative, demanding father and teased by his brothers – no wonder he was plagued by nervous problems and a crippling stammer into adulthood. I saw The King’s Speech at the weekend which details the years in which this little boy went from being the newly married Prince Albert, Duke of York, to King George VI and how he found a man who was able to help him ultimately control the stammer that made public speaking for him such a nightmare. Lionel Logue, an Australian speech therapist, became a significant part of ‘Bertie’s’ life giving him the skills and confidence he needed to deliver the many speeches that rallied a nation during wartime and marked his reign as so successful. Through the film you discover the traumas that caused the young prince to start stammering as five year old child and you really deeply for the young man who was living a relatively uncomplicated life as a Naval Officer when the biggest role of all was conferred upon him.

What comes across very strongly is the sense of vulnerability in a man who had not enjoyed a happy childhood or doting parents, but rather isolation and dominance. His love of his quiet family life with his wife and two daughters was interrupted by the Abdication but the rest, as we know, is history and if you ever wondered where the Queen gets her strength and resilience from then look no further – go see this brilliant film about a man who overcame so many personal problems and issues that we experience in our own lives today and see why he certainly was born to be King.

If Colin Firth (The King) and Geoffrey Rush (Lionel Logue) don’t both win Oscars for their roles in this film then I will eat my keyboard!

Being former hoteliers ourselves I have been finding the Channel Four series ‘Four in a Bed’ morbidly fascinating viewing, even more so than the old chestnut ‘The Hotel Inspector’ which became pretty mundane after Ruth Watson stopped hosting the series. Basically Four in a Bed features a group of B&B owners who go around staying in each other’s properties and rating them to see who is the winner – best B&B – at the end of the week. Not a lot happens in the way of effusive praise or constructive criticism of course, each couple wants to outdo the others and this leaves the road open for a lot of bitching and sniping as the week and visits progress.

The establishments range from some rather nice properties to the bottom end of the scale with some places featured that you wouldn’t board your dog at. That’s par for the course though as there’s a grey area of the B&B business which does not demand you attain a star rating and pretty much allows anyone who fancies their chances to turn their home into a B&B – avoid at all costs those who boast that they ‘don’t go in for ratings or accreditations’ by the way. As far as this series goes it is not so much the properties which leave a bad taste in the mouth, but rather their odious owners who quite fancy themselves as seriously welcoming and entertaining people. They are not, they are dreadful.

One female host on the show recently sported a pair of false upper teeth which made her look as though she had partially swallowed a piano keyboard, she found fault with everything and everyone else and looked down her nose at her fellow humans in general from a lofty height with the face of a slapped arse. Another couple, the female half being the human equivalent of the Michelin Man, owned a farm B&B and she was decidedly affronted when her guests stated they did not appreciate their bed linen being liberally decorated with dog hairs…I agree, YUK. The one thing consistent in this series is the ‘unlikeability’ factor of the participants – I have not seen one couple yet who strike me as being people who like having strangers staying in their homes, a vital requirement for people running a B&B. Nasty, bitchy, fussy, pedantic and just plain irritating – I met many people just like them during our six years of running our own hotel and that those people were also English is no coincidence.

Four in a Bed…? not even one I’m afraid – I’d give all of these people a very wide berth and stay at a Travel Lodge instead.

Last year in 2009 BGT had plenty to write about and an interesting selection of talent and scandal to consider; Susan Boyle without a doubt provided the rags-to-riches story of the decade which will take some beating for a long time to come. Then there was young tantrum-thrower Hollie Steel getting an unheard of second chance at performing her song in the final when she forgot her lines. We had the totally unique counter-tenor Greg Pritchard’s soaring voice being sabotaged by the producer’s appalling choice of song and presentation for his appearance in the final and the brilliant father and son act Stavros Flatley who are still cashing in – and rightly so – on their 2009 success. Take it while you can get it guys!

This year’s effort though was simply not up to scratch in my opinion which is why I have written so little about it here whereas last year there was plenty of fodder for thought. Even the glaringly untalented auditionees were not as morbidly entertaining as previous years. I am beginning to wonder if Simon Cowell would consider having a category specifically for those copy-cat dance troupes who seem to dominate the auditions; sorry but to me they are all the same, you see one you’ve seen them all – they all do pretty much the same body twisting contortions to jumpy-rappy music. Is this the only type of dancing being done these days…? Diversity did it once and best, those following in their wake might insist they are unique and different…but not in any way obvious to me.

For the past three years dancers in some form have won the final – George Sampson, Diversity and last night Spelbound took out the top prize. Good for them I say, congratulations certainly as they are a talented bunch of young people despite their dreadful faux tans…I however would have preferred to see young drummer Kieran Gaffney (above) be declared the winner as he is a very talented musician and it has been a long time since the world had a Buddy Rich or Gene Krupa to astound music fans. I really hope that the ‘Jade Goody syndrome‘ applies in Kieran’s case here whereby we see the runner-up enjoying far more success than the actual winner – remember Kate Lawler anyone…?

Christopher Stone too sang beautifully and is no doubt ‘the’ find of this years series deserves any success which comes his way. I know we have not seen the last of young Kieran or Christopher, so well done guys.